


Warm Hands, Warm Hearts

by HyperKid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jester and Beau are awkward fucks, Multi, Winter’s Crest Gifts, soft, the bread incident reborn, toastie fingies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21967651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Jester and Beau have a present for Caleb for their first Winter’s Crest as a group.Caleb is not entirely convinced it’s not a trap.
Relationships: Beau & Caleb Widogast, Beau/Yasha/Jester/Caleb/Fjord/Caduceus, Empire siblings, Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast, Polynein, widojest
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	Warm Hands, Warm Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I just wanted a little soft Christmas fic.   
> Mollymauk: You just remembered you didn’t track stats on the big one and want to feed your ego.   
> HK: ... Both can be true?   
> Mollymauk: I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Now go finish that one.   
> HK: Aye aye, Cap’n! Happy Winter’s Crest everyone! 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Angsty angsty Caleb Widogast 
> 
> Disclaimer: It is an actual sin that we didn’t get pirate Molly in canon and I would never have let that stand!

The Menagerie Coast wasn’t as cold as the Dwendalian Empire, not by a long shot, but Nicodranas was a port city, and that meant you could buy almost anything. Cold weather clothing? Laughably basic. 

Of course, the Mighty Nein had gotten themselves outfitted for winter pretty well already with coats or cloaks, but there was just one special item that Beau was looking for. Something that had been on her mind for a while now. 

Jester wasn’t exactly the best guide in the world but she was the best they had, and more than enthusiastic to help. Between them the two women found their way down to the markets and to an appropriate shopkeeper. 

So far, so good. 

Winter’s Crest was only a few weeks away. 

*** 

The Mighty Nein “celebrated” the holiday at sea. It wasn’t exactly snowy, and honestly they were more than busy enough with their new adventures and jobs that pretty much everyone forgot. It was actually almost two days later when Jester realised what the date was, and hurried to go collect her bunky. 

Caleb was at the wheel with Orly, though the tortle was mostly just relaxing and enjoying the breeze at this point. There if Caleb had a question, but much more focused on the heat of the sun than its position in the sky. 

When Jester and Beau hurried up, he was pretty easy to persuade to take over for a minute or two. 

Caleb, of course, assumed that something had gone horribly wrong. 

“What do you need to see me about right now?” He asked, a fair degree of trepidation in his voice. It didn’t do much for his nerves that Beau looked a little worried, Jester beaming like the sun. 

“We got you a present!” Jester declared without preamble, rocking up on her toes. 

Caleb’s sense of impending doom tripled. 

Seeing his expression, Beau gave Jester a quick nudge, reaching into the haversack to toss a hastily wrapped package to him. 

“Was Winter’s Crest the day before yesterday,” she muttered, scowling in a way that dared him to comment on them being late. 

Utterly speechless, Caleb turned the package slowly over in his hands. It was small, and felt soft through the clumsily wrapped brown paper. Jester had done her best to make it festive with little pictures of candy canes and what was probably supposed to be a snowman but looked a lot more like a dick. 

Probably supposed to be a dick, if he was honest with himself. Either way it did nothing to disguise how quickly it had been put together. 

A lump rose in Caleb’s throat and he forced himself to swallow, blinking rapidly. No, he was not going to cry. 

Not when it could definitely still be a prank. 

Which was a pretty big part of why he hadn’t opened yet. Jester would be entirely unreadable, so he fixed his attention on Beau. 

“I did not realise we were doing gifts,” he said slowly, not really trying to keep the suspicion from his voice. The good thing about Beau was that she wouldn’t mind. 

She did give him a brief glare though. 

“Yeah, well, we didn’t get something for everyone so don’t make a big deal of it, okay? But we wanted to get somethin’ for you.” 

Plus one to the prank column. 

Jester was bouncing eagerly now, her hands clasped in front of her. 

“Open it!” 

Plus two. 

Holding it out from his body in case it exploded, Caleb cautiously tore a corner of the packaging. The corner aimed at Beau, who didn’t flinch. 

Alright. Plus one to not prank? Or a wash, depending on what it was. 

The one thing he could be reasonably sure it wasn’t, by size and weight, was a dick. 

Not unless Jester knew how to knit, and that was a deeply horrifying thought. It did seem to be something knitted though, as he poked cautiously through his little hole. Definitely cloth, soft, and... he tore open the paper a little more once he was sure nothing would fly out. 

It took a couple of turns for him to work out that the fingers had been folded in. Finally he was frowning down at a pair of gloves, the backs laced with delicate gold glyphs that he didn’t quite recognise. 

They wouldn’t have gotten him something cursed, so it was probably an actual gift? He frowned at the women in question. 

Jester was still beaming, clasped hands tucked up under her chin as she watched him. Beau was scowling at the deck, the faintest hint of a flush on her brown cheeks. 

He directed the question at both of them. 

“Thank you, but... what are they?” 

“Gloves,” Jester chirped immediately, like it might be that obvious. Then she pointed to the glyphs, all but vibrating with excitement, “and they’ve got warming glyphs in them so they’ll keep your hands nice and toasty!” 

“Shouldn’t burn up when you cast with them either,” Beau grumbled into the deck, her own arms folded. “Better than fuckin’ bread.” 

And all of a sudden the memory came rushing back and Caleb blushed to the tips of his ears. Especially the incredulity and pity on the womens’ faces when he’d stuck his hands into the hot, fresh loaf. 

A little concerned when he’d frozen, Jester leaned closer, peering up into his face. 

“I know it’s warm now but we didn’t want you to get cold again when we get home?” Without the excitement she sounded a lot smaller, quiet and hopeful and uncertain. 

Looking sharply into her face, Caleb couldn’t see a hint of pity. A fair bit of embarrassment fading to annoyance on Beau’s, though the latter was never too far away. 

“You can just say you don’t like it,” the monk declared gruffly, her arms tightly folded. She actually sounded... hurt? Surly and sullen, and cranky as fuck, sure. But hurt? 

It took an effort to push past hurt pride, past the ghost of Bren that insisted he never needed to be fucking pitied, but he managed it. It got easier the more years passed, the longer he spent being less than dirt to stay hidden. Tried to look at it from their perspective. 

They wanted him to keep warm? 

Sleeves Are Bullshit Beauregard had bought him gloves to help keep his fingers warm. Now the thought tugged a hint of smile to his lips; gloves were quite definitively not sleeves. 

And they’d considered his spell casting, made sure to get him something that wouldn’t be damaged. 

Unusually thoughtful from those two. Caleb pulled the gloves on carefully, flexing his fingers inside the knit. They fit well enough, and the wool was quite soft and comfortable. 

Visibly perking back up, Jester leaned over and poked at the glyphs on the back of each glove, causing a faint glow and radiant warmth to spread across his hands. It made him relax almost in spite of himself, and Caleb couldn’t help a slight smile. 

They couldn’t have been cheap. 

Definitely not something he would have bought for himself, not when he could be buying ink and paper. 

Pulling the gloves off for now, he gave them both as sincere a smile as he could muster. 

“They are lovely... thank you both very much.” 

Beau just glared at the deck again, unsure what to do without a challenge to push back on. 

“You’re welcome,” she muttered and turned abruptly on her heel. 

Caleb and Jester watched her go, then Jester leaned forward to whisper, 

“She thought you might be mad if we brought it up but I didn’t want your hands to get hurt,” taking one of his hands in hers, she trailed her fingers gently up the backs of his. “I know you need to use them a lot for your spells so I figured these would keep them warm and toasty.” 

She looked so blissfully satisfied with the results that Caleb didn’t have the heart to tell her that Beauregard had kind of had a point. Every so often just a little of Jester’s sheltered upbringing would poke through, would remind him of how different they were. 

It was kind of nice to see it where she was trying to be considerate instead of just upset. 

And showed that ja, they still thought on a fundamentally different level. He’d been trying to show them a good trick to beat the chill; she’d thought his hands were just cold. 

Never having gotten very cold, he was a little impressed she’d found something so effective, even with Beau’s help. Turning his hand in hers, he gave her a fond smile. 

Awkward, tactless, and clumsily affectionate, whatever she was she was his. For as long as she’d have him. 

“It is very thoughtful. Thank you, Jester.” 

Almost wriggling in pleasure, she rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek and turned away, her touch trailing along his hands like it hurt to let him go. 

“I have to go back to work now, but I’ll see you later, okay?” 

He waved her off, making his way back to the wheel. Orly gave him a distinctly knowing look and waited til he had his hands on to step back, settling his shell against the side once more. 

“There’s a story there, hmm?” 

A slight smile tugged at Caleb’s lips as he automatically checked the sun, the sails, the waves. All still as they should be. 

“Not so very much of one. Just... a misunderstanding.” 

“One they’ve fixed?” 

That made Caleb think a moment and his smile widened. 

“I think they understand less now than they did before.” 

The tortle peered into his face for a long moment before chuckling, scaly neck retracting as he settled back to bask in the sun. 

“You’ve got it bad, boy.” 

Caleb couldn’t argue that. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: It’s not midnight yet so this totally counts! Happy holidays!


End file.
